Ce Soir
by lock shock and barrel
Summary: [very slight EponinexMontparnasse] This fic is the lovechild of Panic! At the Disco and Paroxsymal Lupine staying up until like 5 in the morning. Revel in it. Yes, the title is lame. Deal.


**A/N: This is a short Monty drabble, based off the song Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off, by Panic! At the Disco. Cos I heard the song and I was like 'Wow, this is like something Monty would say'. Because...Les Mis is like the only thing I think about. Anyway...Yes, I do realize I always write about Monty at night, on some nondescript street, that usually strays away from the original point.**

Montparnasse loved the night. He lived at night, listening to the whispers of the creatures of the dark. Tonight though, even with the clear black sky above, irritating thoughts slunk into his mind. It was that Pontmercy boy. He was all Eponine ever spoke of, and Montparnasse was far more than annoyed at Thenardier dragging his little slut of a daughter around with the Minette. Was he jealous of the bourgeois? How laughable. A sigh escaped Montparnasse. Eponine, the silly little bitch, she always used to cling to the devilish dandy, accept his harsh words and lie down for him even when she knew she would wake up hardly able to walk or think clearly. With this thought a wicked grin crept across Montparnasse's face; the exchange of pain and pleasure always brought a shock of enjoyment to his twisted mind. But the buzz did not last long tonight. He shouldn't have gotten involved, shouldn't have cared so much. For how long can one be around a person without acknowledging them? And it wasn't as though Eponine was similar to the women Montparnasse usually associated himself with; yet the certain roughness about the girl, able to run with the gang and thieve just as well as the rest, was what so intrigued Montparnasse. Now he was in too damn deep.

Stride smooth and defined, Montparnasse wandered further into the shadows. He was deaf to the calls of beggars and whores wandering the night, too engrossed in his pointless venture. Where would he go? Why should he even walk at all? Each moment was stripped away from his life, slowly counting down the days until his eminent death. Each moment was one wasted, amounting to nothing. He might as well have died right then. It was always a method of bewilderment and bitter amusement to Montparnasse when others spoke of their love for life. They would all perish eventually, and would have created nothing nor be remembered. Eponine walked the streets singing and bright-eyed, as though her life were free of strife and pain, frolicking under the light of the dancing stars; and Montparnasse was repulsed by it. He hated the girl's joy with a burning passion that could ignite even his cold heart; often times he would shower her with vicious blows should she return to him in a spell of euphoria. Perhaps it was envy. Envy because he could feel no true joy, not the immaculate, pure happiness that Eponine was overwhelmed with. Or perhaps he just joyed in seeing the pain that he had induced.

His steps eventually slowed to a trudging gait. Now death would come even more painfully slow. But it was momentarily stopped when a shadowy form materialized some few yards before Montparnasse. Furtively as he could, the young man approached until he was within three feet of the form, and stopped abruptly. Without facing the form, he snarled, "What's got you so damn happy?"

"Do I need a reason t' be?"

"The world around you is dead, and you'll join the rest of them eventually."

"Might 's well take what I can," Eponine commented softly, gazing up into the deep indigo sky. She was unfazed as Montparnasse sidled closer to her, but continued to speak. "I'm happy b'cause I have someone t' love."

"He doesn't love you."

"That ain't what matters. You've no one to love, 'Parnasse, so no one c'n ever love you." This bit of philosophy sounded like utter drivel to Montparnasse, who made his opinion known with a gravelly cackle, which was met with an icy glare. "Yer just too full of hate t' love anyone, too full of contempt to feel happiness."

"What do you want a pompous bourgeois for, when you have someone like me?" A malicious grin accompanied this remark. A sigh was the response from Eponine, who looked sadly the other way as Montparnasse drew himself closer to her.

"You'll never understand."

"Maybe that's just for the best." With this Montparnasse draped his arm over Eponine's shoulder, staring up into the evening sky with her. No, Montparnasse had no one to be envious of; Eponine had always been his.


End file.
